A Place To Stand
by scarlotti
Summary: She kisses him. And everything stops... - CHAPTER 8 is up! R&R,pretty please? They make my day shiny. ;)
1. What Bitter Wrong

**Title: What Bitter Wrong**

**Rating: T **to be safe

**Pairings: **Nathan/Audrey, D/N/A FRIENDSHIP ;)

**Spoiler: **"You're _going_ to get yourself killed!" Audrey exclaims. It comes out louder than she means it to - harsher - but at this point she doesn't even care.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it ;).

I've been lurking and devouring so many of the works on this site, and several stories have been swirling in my head that I thought I'd finally type one up. As this was my first fic, I'd love honest, constructive criticism. The title for the entire work, as well as chapter titles are taken from **Sonnets for the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barret Browning**

"…_Let us stay_

_Rather on earth, Belovèd,—where the unfit_

_Contrarious moods of men recoil away_

_And isolate pure spirits, and permit_

_A place to stand and love in for a day,_

_With darkness and the death-hour rounding it."_

~Sonnet 22, **Sonnets from the Portuguese **by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

* * *

_Until the lengthening wings break into fire_

_At either curvèd point,—**what bitter wrong**_

_Can the earth do to us, that we should not long_

_Be here contented? Think._

_- Elizabeth Barrett Browning, **Sonnet 22**  
_

.O.O.O.O.

"You're _going_ to get yourself killed!" Audrey exclaims. It comes out louder than she means it to - harsher - but at this point she doesn't even care. Instinctively, she reaches out to grab Nathan's hand, to somehow emphasize the gravity of her statement. Immediately, she feels the unpleasant twist in her gut when he jerks away before she can touch him.

"I'll be fine." He turns to leave.

"Nathan, you're not invincible." She physically inserts herself in front of him, this time grabbing his forearms. She needs to pound this into his head before he does something really stupid - something that he won't be able to walk away from with a few bloody scratches across his lower back.

_Something that he won't be walking away from at all. _

And then….

Audrey doesn't even want to think about the _then_, so she plants herself in front of him and holds him in place through the barrier of clothing. Nathan hasn't allowed skin to skin contact since…

"Parker, I'm _fine_. If you think that I'm going to just stand by," he says it quietly and then breaks off with finality, but what goes unspoken hangs in the heavily in air between them. He's adding another thing to the pile that they _don't_ talk about – _and watch you put yourself in danger._

For a split second, she thinks Nathan will crack; thinks he'll move past this invisible wall that he's so firmly planted between them. She sees the near-desperation, the anger, the longing flicker behind his eyes for just a second and she thinks he'll let go; thinks he'll step back to what they were, what they were almost becoming.

_Before_.

Then she sees the mask slide into place.

"I'm doing my job." Again quiet, but this time, it's cold.

Nathan's face is nearly emotionless. It still hits her hard. Every time. She freezes just for a minute, and he's gone, twisting out of her grasp and breezing around her out the door. He doesn't slam it – doesn't even close it – but the effect is the same. _Subject closed_.

Another thing they "don't" talk about.

"Well, that was….interesting." Duke extracts himself from his deceptively relaxed pose against her desk, arms unfolding.

He's become even better at that, Audrey thinks absently, at going unnoticed, but he's always around lately. Nathan and he seem to have an unspoken arrangement in place. Nathan, Duke, Dwight – at least one of them is always there. On more than one night, she's seen the familiar outline of Nathan's Bronco parked nearly out of sight of her balcony and she's certain that she only sees it a fraction of the time. She's just as certain that the other nights have been divvied up between Dwight and Duke. Audrey has a nagging feeling that Dwight might have somehow bugged the outside of the Gull as well – surely Cleaners do that sort of thing – but thus far, she has found no proof.

"You honestly think that anything we say will change his mind?" Duke's expression is two parts curious and one part caring.

"Do you know how many injuries he's had since…." Audrey stops there.

_Since I got back; since you, Nathan, and half of the Haven PD rode up on your shiny white horses in the nick of time._

It has a weird fairytale-esque feel when she thinks about it that way.

The things they don't talk about are starting to bleed into her every waking moment.

They don't talk about how Nathan, Duke, Dwight, and a handful of Haven's finest barreled to her rescue mere hours after her she was taken.

They _don't_ talk about the look of relief on Nathan's face when he saw her unharmed – she's sure similar relief was reflected on her own face, and maybe even on Dukes – but Nathan's expression had her heart in her throat. Relief, elation, and something that made her certain that he wouldn't be letting her leave his side for weeks to come. For a second, she had rather liked the idea.

They don't talk about how that look had been swiftly replaced with one of sorrow, followed by determination, and then just as quickly with the calculated indifference that she has become so familiar with lately. Nathan has stoicism in spades.

They don't talk about the fact that Nathan expressly sent Duke to untie her, while Nathan busied himself cuffing - decidedly more roughly than was strictly necessary – her unidentified captors.

They don't talk about Nathan's hastily bandaged shoulder or that, when her assailants were finally hauled into the Haven PD, the bandage was bleeding through, and the arrestee's had apparently had a few close encounters with a solid surface. Nathan's fists appeared to have met with a similar fate.

They don't talk about Nathan and Duke's newfound confidence in one another.

They don't talk about the fact that when she headed towards the Bronco after her initial checkup on-site, Nathan's swift motion to Duke had Duke steering her towards his vehicle instead.

They don't talk about why, during the weeks she's been "back", she and Nathan have been trapped in this continual dance, one that consists mostly of her pushing the issue and him strategically (or not so strategically) retreating to his truck, his office - essentially anywhere Audrey isn't.

They don't talk about the horrible things that were no doubt going to happen had the rescue team not been so prompt – memory wipe, death, any number unmentionable in-betweens. She still has nightmares exploring countless endgame scenarios from her little brush with destiny.

They _definitely_ don't talk about the nights when she wakes up in a cold sweet from these nightmares with what she is fairly certain is Nathan's name hanging just behind her teeth. No, they have a plethora of items to get to before they hit on _that_ particular subject.

And, apparently, now they don't talk about how Nathan increasingly seems to come home from their escalating sessions with the "Troubles" with injuries that should have been sustained by another member of their party instead - ranging from mild scrapes, concussions, and knife wounds, to instances such as today's brushes with death – often from using himself as a human shield.

"He's going to get himself killed, Duke." The words are sounding more mantra-like by the minute.

"He doesn't care." Duke's uncharacteristically tired words bring her head up with a nearly audible snap. He sighs at her exasperated look, "Look Audrey, none of us can even think about losing you, but Nathan…" Duke pushes a hand through his perpetually mussed hair. "I don't think Nate would come out alive."

It strikes her that his words should be comforting, sweet even, but right now she's tired and confused, and all she feels is frustration. A bark of a laugh escapes her lips, unbidden.

"Yeah, I can see that." Sarcasm thoroughly laces her words.

Duke actually snaps at her, "You don't get it do you?"

"No Duke, I don't. I don't get how my kidnapping causes my partner - my _friend_ – to treat me like a stranger. He hasn't said more than a handful of words to me that haven't been completely necessary since you found me."

The rational part of her realizes that she shouldn't be unloading on Duke, but that part is being loudly overruled by the part of her that aches to understand why the one person that she's allowed herself to fully, truly trust seems to have discarded her without explanation.

Duke gives a characteristic smirk at her answer.

"You really don't get it," his words come out with a rueful laugh. "Audrey, he blames _himself._ For the kidnapping, whatever" his spiraling hand motions would be laughable under other circumstances, "almost happened to you…for everything. The way he sees it, the Chief warned him off you, he didn't listen, and he almost got you killed. Because he didn't protect you…"

Audrey's eyebrows shoot up in confusion and surprise, as understanding begins to creep across Duke's face.

"But….you wouldn't know that," Duke says with measured slowness, "...because you couldn't see the Chief."

Duke's arms cross, uncross, cross again, and one hand comes up to distractedly strokes his beard. "This really is almost poetic." Another smile, then he visibly relaxes, "I mean, guy falls for girl, guy gets girl."

Audrey's posture visibly changes at this and a slight brush colors her cheeks.

"Guy sets up a date with girl, guy's dad comes back from the dead to warn him not to get involved with girl or it could lead to girl's untimely demise. And then girl gets kidnapped on the eve of their arranged date." He ends with a bemused chuckle. "I mean, you couldn't _write_ a sappier tale."

"So Nathan told you about…"Audrey's mind switches gears automatically, "Wait. The Chief said _what_?"

"Well, to answer your first question. Yes, and I'm shocked that you didn't ask for my blessing, by the way. And to answer your second, according to Nathan, Old Man Wuornos and I quote "warned me not to fall in love with Audrey or I'd get her hurt.""

"Oh…" comes Audrey's quiet response, "He….?"

"You can't really hold what a guy says against him when he's just been shot." Duke jumps in.

"Wait, _what?_" Another head snap, at this rate, she's going to get whiplash within the hour. She briefly wonders if whiplash qualifies as a work related injury. "Nathan was _shot_? Who shot him?"

Duke has the decency to look abashed as he raises one of his hands from its folded position across his chest.

"_You shot him?"_ Audrey hisses in a not so quiet whisper, simultaneously flicking her fingers out and snapping the top of his unguarded left ear.

"Owwwww!" Duke brings both arms up defensively. "Hey, in my defense, he _did_ draw first and his arm did go all Killer Tattoo on me. It was self-defense!" Duke paused. "How was I supposed to know he'd listen to reason at the last minute?"

In hindsight, Duke should have known what would happen next. But, in his defense, he's always been more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy.

* * *

**A/N: Minor Edit **1/5/12 for spelling errors and to include poem stanza


	2. Break Into Fire

**Title: Break into Fire**

**Rating: T **to be safe

**Pairings: **Nathan/Audrey, D/N/A FRIENDSHIP ;)

**Spoiler: **"You're _going_ to get yourself killed!" Audrey exclaims. It comes out louder than she means it to - harsher - but at this point she doesn't even care.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it ;).

**A/N: **P.S. Thank you to redbrainbluebrain, nertooold54, and MagPie003 for the great reviews J. And an apology to all the authors' who I have not reviewed in the past, but wanted to. Reviews ROCK!

The title for the entire work, as well as chapter titles are taken from **Sonnets for the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barret Browning.**

* * *

_When our two souls stand up erect and strong, _

_Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher, _

_Until the lengthening wings __**break into fire **_

_-_Elizabeth Barrett Browning, **Sonnet 22**

.O.O.O.

This time it's Nathan's head that snaps to attention. An obviously furious Audrey drags a yelping Duke into his office by an ear, subsequently slamming the door and closing the blinds, even though the only other officers remaining this late at night are either processing case files in the evidence room, or out on patrol. The bullpen has been empty for nearly two hours.

The abruptness of the duo's entry leaves Nathan without time to collect himself – her cheeks are flushed, her mouth forms a tight line, and a few blond tendrils have escaped her ponytail and are brushing against her cheek – she's breathtaking. At this point, he considers it a success that he's not staring, outright. He has no faculties left to don his carefully constructed mask of indifference. Luckily, his sense of self-preservation is still fully intact and he stands abruptly, crosses his arms, and unconsciously squares up to meet the whirl-wind that is his partner.

"Ok, we have been playing keep away from each other for far too long and _you_," Audrey's accusing finger manages to encompass both men in one sweep, "have some explaining to do."

"_You_!" She turns to Nathan and he almost lets out a half-smile at the determined expression on her face – until her pointer finds its way between the V where his shirt buttons. If it had been even a few weeks before, he would have jokingly chastised himself for leaving the top buttons undone – Parker puts some force behind her pokes – but all he can do now is sharply inhale. The feeling of _her_ permeates his body. His eyelids half shut on their own accord, as he absorbs the texture and warmth of her still-present finger against the bottom of his collar bone. He hasn't felt anything – hasn't felt _her - _in nearly two months.

He exhales slowly, savoring the way that his nerve endings flash to life under her touch.

"_You_ are done shutting down, shutting me out, and shutting up. We are not leaving this room until you explain to me how you managed to get _shot _by Duke and why you are currently making it your life's mission to be a human pincushion." It's amazing how she managed to speak so loudly without raising her voice.

It's more than amazing the way that each emphasized word coincided with a tap against his breastbone, and an electric shock to his nervous system.

And then what she is saying manages to sink in. Nathan swings his head to the left and narrows his eyes at Duke.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that! I was _defending _you!" Duke's tentative touches to his ear find no permanent damage.

"And _you_," Audrey rounds her glare to Duke, still keeping her finger firmly against Nathan's chest – she's not above using this to her advantage at the moment and she's done backing down, "you _shot him_, and now...what?…You're swapping friendship bracelets?"

"Hey!" Both men jump to the defensive at the same time. There's an abrupt pause before Nathan motions Duke to continue. He takes advantage of the moment when Audrey's attention shifts to Duke. He steps back from her touch. He needs to regroup.

He's suddenly tired - near exhaustion really - which is understandable considering the fact that about half of the sleep he's managed lately has been cat-napped in the seat of his Bronco. But it's more than that – he's tired of fighting with her, tired of pushing her away. Nathan knows he's lost the advantage; he knows that look – the one that she gets when she's done accepting excuses. He's not sure where this will leave them, but he's fairly certain that his way hasn't been doing anyone any favors.

He checks back in to the conversation to hear Duke doing a mangled job of defending himself, and now he permits himself a small smile for the first time in weeks – some things never change.

"Look, Nathan shows up – on _my_ boat, none-the-less – and starts going all Christian Bale on me. He knocks me down, draws his gun, and the next thing I know, I'm face to…well…forearm….with _the tattoo_." Duke's adamancy has always struck Nathan as more than slightly humorous. He's currently extending a pointed finger in the general direction of Nathan's arm. "I try talking, but does he listen? _No_."

At this point, Nathan tips his head back slightly and raises his eyebrows quizzically. This is going to be good.

"Ok, well, you listened, but you're not the easiest man to read." Duke's gaze shifts a few millimeters to meet Nathan. "I'm not big on taking chances when there's a gun pointed in my general vicinity."

Duke faces Nathan and Audrey meaningfully. "You might recall that that's been happening with some regularity, lately. There's a reason that I keep firearms in reach." He pauses for emphasis and the two give a joint nod. He has a point.

"I _may_ have overreacted, but I think that we can all agree that I had good reason. Luckily for Nathan, he happened to shift when he… lowered his gun… and my shot didn't hit anything important." Audrey's eyes narrow and Duke's pretty sure that his joke didn't go over entirely well. "I _apologized_. Heck, I even bandaged him up; I'm the good guy here!"

The mood in the room noticeably lightens as Audrey gives an amused snort. It feels good.

"That covers the gunshot…" Audrey prompts, cocking her head and quirking an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied. She takes a step back, closer to where Nathan is still sitting against his desk. She feels some of the tension bleed out of her muscles when he doesn't move away from her.

_Baby steps._

It looks like she's got quite a bit of catching up to do, if the revelations of the last hour are any indicator. The phrase "never a dull moment" must have been coined with Haven in mind.

"Well, we…" Duke's words drop off as he shifts his gaze to Nathan.

Audrey turns, just as Nathan shifts off of the desk edge. This brings them within a foot of each other. This is the closest they've been in months, with the exception of the times when he's physically knocked her out of harm's way. She's reminded that she needs to get a look at the wounds on his back. If she knows Nathan, he's done minimal damage control at best.

_But first._

Nathan slowly rolls up the cuff of his left shirt sleeve to reveal a faint outline of the maze tattoo etched into his skin. It's nowhere near as dark as Max Hansen's, but it's definitely there. He swallows the instant disgust he feels. For him it's a physical reminder of Max Hansen and even though he still doesn't know much of the man, his fairly certain that he's rather not know, in this case. He resigns himself to finding out. Whatever was going on the last time the Trouble's reared their ugly head, he knows Hansen was in the thick of it.

But right now, Audrey's eyeing him worriedly – she's always been able to read him far too easily – so he moves on quickly.

"It just…appeared." He doesn't offer any other explanation – doesn't really have one to offer. He's spent more than a few nights recently mulling through the possible implications of its sudden arrival, but at this point he has nothing concrete to go on. And quite frankly between the Troubles, his workload as Chief, and the avoidance/surveillance game that he's been playing with Audrey, there are a lot of things that have been moved to the back burner.

"Kinda took our minds off of..."He sees Audrey's inquisitive nature kick in and drops off as he steels himself for her touch. It doesn't come.

Instead her fingers hover mere centimeters from his skin, tracing the maze's abstract shape in the air directly above it. He tells himself that this is good. He needs to get used to this. He can't let himself want more with her, can't risk her like that.

Not again_._

He can live like this – he can have her without really _having_ her- if it means keeping her safe.

And he _has_ to keep her safe.

He just has to learn how to balance her safety and their friendship, because apparently she's done with the silent treatment approach, and he's too worn out to fight back. He needs a friend and so does she. He doesn't let himself think about having _more. _He can't.

"Just like this?" Audrey's fingers continue their patterning. She's looking directly at him now - all cop.

"No." Again, the men speak in unison. Duke's response is, surprisingly, the more adamant, calling the attention of the other two. Duke takes a few steps closer, but stops several feet away and gestures with a hand. "I mean, yes, but…it was…raised at first. Red. Like it had just been inked."

Duke's right, Nathan realizes. He'd been so concentrated on another aspect of the tattoo, that he hadn't really paid much attention to what it looked like. But Duke's looking at Nathan, waiting for him to share the rest, and Audrey follows suit.

"Felt like fire." Nathan states it evenly.

.O.O.O.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Tell me honestly, is the perspective jumping irritating? I can't seem to make a decision, but want all the character's to have some voice in this. Thanks!** Minor Editing 1/2/12** for spelling errors.


	3. The Face of All The World Is Changed

**Title: The Face of All The World Is Changed**

**Rating: T **to be safe

**Pairings: **Nathan/Audrey, D/N/A FRIENDSHIP ;)

**Spoiler: **Nathan looks exhausted, and she doesn't know if she's ever seen him this tired before, not even after he lost the Chief.

**Disclaimer/Author's Note:** Haven and Browning's works - not mine. All mistakes - very much mine. Special thanks for all the awesome input! I really appreciate it. Really. Here we go, round 3.

The title for the entire work, as well as chapter titles are taken from **Sonnets for the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barret Browning**

* * *

_**The face of all the world is changed**__, I think,  
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul  
Move still, oh, still, beside me_

_-_Elizabeth Barrett Browning, **Sonnet 7**

.O.O.O.O.

_Felt like fire._

For a moment, it's like the last two months haven't happened. Audrey's eyes meet Nathan's; he's calm, and he's still, but inside there's a storm – shame, fear, indecision. And they're back on the deck at The Gull after Anson Shumway. But this time he's the one who needs the reassurance, and Chris doesn't have the chance to interrupt.

They're standing so close together that she can feel the heat radiating off his body, can feel his muscles tensed and posed for flight. He still hasn't looked away, and for a second they're too close, and the air is too charged, and she hardly notices that Duke is awkwardly caught in the background, and they're going to crash together, and she forgets to breathe.

"_You can never fail me."_

She wants to say it back.

And then Nathan steps back – as far back as he can with the desk just behind him – and runs a hand across his weary face. He looks exhausted, and she doesn't know if she's ever seen him this tired before, not even after he lost the Chief.

Another thing she files neatly away for later.

She gives them both the out they need.

"You felt it." Audrey repeats it back.

He nods slowly. It's something else that he can't wrap his head around – doesn't know if he wants to try, actually. He'd been so shocked to see it – hadn't really even registered the first painfully real sensations that it carved into his skin. He'd been too wrapped in rage and revenge. It didn't take him long, afterword, to begin to wonder at the way its appearance had coincided with the unmanageable fury that had been pulsing through his body.

He would have pulled the trigger. He hadn't been aiming to wound.

Had he been clearheaded, he still would have confronted Duke, though he may have relied on less-than-friendly tactics to garner information. But he would have needed answers to find Audrey, and killing Duke wouldn't have gotten him any.

She's looking at him with a question in her eyes.

"Did it..." Audrey shoots a glance in Duke's direction.

"He knows." Nathan responds. She's missed that, missed _them._

"Yeah, "He"," Duke's use of air quotes fails to add levity to the conversation, but at least it's another distraction, "knows about the whole Nathan feels Audrey bit. Thanks, again, for the heads up. You two are so forthcoming. It's amazing you're not more popular." Duke's sarcasm is more successful, and is met by a pair of wry grins.

But Audrey's focused and she waits for Nathan to pick up where her unfinished question left off.

Nathan's not entirely sure what or how much she wants to hear : that he spent the next few minutes mentally chastising himself for not noticing his uncharacteristic behavior; that he felt relieved that Duke had shot _him_ and not the other way around; that this had quickly given way to self-loathing for risking, and subsequently losing, Audrey; that he had unthinkingly verbalized these thoughts - thoughts that would have ordinarily remained hidden, to Duke.

He wonders if his Trouble rules out shock as an excuse.

He really shouldn't be surprised that Duke had caved to Audrey's questioning. He's just hoping that Duke was selective about what he shared.

It would be a shame to have to kill Duke when he'd just begun to enjoy having him around.

Patience has never been Audrey's strong suit. Her gaze is distant, then determined, as she restates her question.

"Did it," she starts again. He sees the movement a split second before his hand is alive with sensation. He clenches his jaw, stops the gasp just in time. He can't help closing his eyes, just for a second.

She's doing this on purpose; he can see it. It leaves him feeling irritated and elated at the same time. Audrey wouldn't be Audrey without her need to push limits, even painstakingly established limits. He almost let's himself think it - that _she needs him, too_. But he can't; he won't.

_Move on._

Nathan extracts his hand – gently this time - under the guise of scrubbing his hand across his face. He sees something flash behind her eyes. But it's gone too quickly to identify.

_Move on._

"No," he manages. No, not like that, nothing feels like her. He pauses and tries to put the right words to it. "More like…running frostbite under water. Not so bad at first, and then…worse." That's a feeling he's certain of, one feeling that _every_ kid in Maine knows. "Really bad frostbite."

"And then…it just…faded." Duke adds.

"How long did it take?" Audrey 's brows draw together; mentally, she's cataloging all of the tattoo's they've run across – tattoo's on dead men, Max Hansen – and comparing them to the one stamped on Nathan's arm. His seems so much lighter; it barely stands out against his skin. She grabs his arm again, this time more forcefully and without an ulterior motive.

"This is…it's disappearing." She states it mostly to herself.

"How long did it take?" This time she puts more urgency behind her demand.

"What, two, three hours?" Duke looks to Nathan for confirmation. "I don't know. Sometime during the drive, it was just….gone."

"Something like that." Nathan's recovering faster this time; he was almost expecting the second touch. He can see more questions, follow-ups that she's just waiting to unload: why is it visible now, what triggers it, why didn't you tell me, and on and on.

This could be a long night.

But Audrey has to finish this train of thought, has to fill this gap between the tattoo and her rescue. Details later.

"What next?"

The men exchange a weighted glance.

"We talked, after Duke got me bandaged up." Nathan smirks. "Turns out he's not too bad with a first aid kit."

"I'm a man of many talents, my friend, what can I say." Modesty will never be Duke's strong point. Today of all days, that is refreshing.

"Duke may be a pain in the ass, but he's not stupid." Duke bows dramatically at Nathan's gibe. Nathan glances back at Audrey. "He could have gotten you to come with him any number of ways. Whoever trashed your apartment and planted Duke's whistle overplayed their hand."

Audrey's eyebrows raise in surprise, again. She runs a hand through her hair, and starts pacing slow laps around the room, processing.

Obviously, Dwight's efforts to repair the damage had been thorough – the damage to her apartment was new.

Nathan sees her processing and exhales slowly. It could be a _very_ long night.

"Got a call from Dwight" at least he'd had the presence of mind to call the Cleaner before his confrontation with Duke. "He's good at what he does…" A pause. "Put a call into the station and …you know the rest."

"So you two just decided to let bygones be bygones, huh?" Audrey's stopped pacing and the three of them are standing in an informal huddle.

"We…talked on the drive over." Duke offers, looking to Nathan.

Audrey's eyes find him as well.

"It was a long drive." Nathan appends.

_The longest of his life._

It's amazing what crisis can do for clarity. He'd needed to make a decision about Duke for a long time. Not one based on past wrongs and resentments, but an honest decision. Duke made mistakes, often played by his own rules, but when it came down to it, so had he. Duke's frantic and apologetic first aid and his adamancy regarding his commitment to protecting Audrey, coupled with the blatant attempts to divide their little group - Nathan had made a decision.

_We aren't who we were._

They're in this, together. He can't protect Audrey alone, can't do any of this without help – Duke, Dwight – he has to trust his gut at some point.

And then the talking had started.

Boxes and weapon stashes.

Conversations with long dead– and not so long dead – fathers.

Superhuman strength, the reason Duke had been so particular about gloves when bandaging him.

The Rev.

"_I don't know what's going on Nathan, but I've picked my side, and you two are it. Heck, you've both saved my life on numerous occasions; it's about time I started to return the favor."_

Apologies.

Fate.

Kisses.

"_I can feel her."_

"_Wait, so you two…are congratulations in order?"_

"_Duke..."_

"_Whoa, easy there tiger. I mean, none of my business, but…I'm happy for you Nathan…really."_

The longest drive of Nathan's life.

In more way than one.

"We're fighting a war, Audrey," Duke quips lightly, his eyes lock with Nathan's. And then, far more seriously, "I've chosen my side."

For more than the first time in the last few weeks, Nathan finds himself genuinely appreciative of Duke's presence. It's still an odd feeling – old habits are hard to break – but he thinks that he can get used to it.

.O.O.O.O.

* * *

**Authors Note: **We'll get to new territory soon, just have to get a few more unresolved issues out of the way first :). Thoughts? I'm trying to elaborate on all the major points without bogging down. **Minor Edits: 1/5/12 for clarity and spelling errors.**


	4. Accuse Me Not

**Title: Accuse Me Not**

**Rating: T **to be safe

**Pairings: **Nathan/Audrey, D/N/A FRIENDSHIP ;)

**Spoiler: **Nathan's suddenly filled with what can only be described as dread and a nearly equal amount of resignation – emotions he would have never imaged associating with the prospect of being inside Audrey's apartment.

**Disclaimer/Author's Note:** Haven and Browning's works - not mine. All mistakes - very much mine. Sorry for the delay! Life happened, writers block happened, you know the drill ;). Hope you enjoy! Thoughts, critiques, etc.? The title for the entire work, as well as chapter titles are taken from **Sonnets for the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barret Browning**

* * *

_Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear  
Too calm and sad a face in front of thine…_

_-_Elizabeth Barrett Browning, **Sonnet 15**

.O.O.O.O.

The knock at the door barely precedes its smooth swing inward, drawing their attention.

Dwight's large form fills the opening.

"Got a call from Stephen's at the Marina. They're experiencing a bit of a rat infestation." Dwight's voice is calm and his tone conversational. He leans back against the door frame and makes a seemingly casual visual sweep of the bullpen. For an imposing man, he has mastered subtlety. "They were looking for a few extra hands to round them up. I told him I'd spread the word."

An onlooker would assume this was small-town neighborliness at its best.

"I'm with Sasquatch." The name takes on a tone of brotherly affection, coming from Duke. It goes unstated that he would use it regardless of - or rather in spite of - Dwight's preference.

Dwight gives a nod and pushes off the doorframe without further explanation. The others follow closely behind.

Audrey doesn't give Nathan the opportunity to dictate her travel arrangements, but passes him up and plants herself firmly in the passenger side of the Bronco. Their conversation may be on hold for the time being, but she has no intention of losing hard-earned ground. She pointedly ignores Nathan's awkward pause at his door - one hand resting on the handle, his mouth slightly open as if to protest.

Duke gives him a sympathetic shrug as he passes. He almost feels sorry for the man - almost.

"You coming, Wuornos?" Audrey keeps her expression neutral as she speaks, and the quickly receding taillights of Dwight's van prompt Nathan to action. He climbs in and turns the key.

.O.O.O.O.

It's surprising how much damage could be done by very determined creatures, despite their small size. As Troubles go, it's not the most original, but after the recent escalation, Audrey finds it mildly relieving in a way. Stephen's particular Trouble would be easy to manage.

"Well, _he'll_ never play the violin again. Though judging from what we heard, I don't think that can be considered a tragedy." Audrey's attempt at humor seems oddly flat, and does little to break the imposing quiet that permeates the truck cab.

The drive up had consisted of harmless, albeit awkward, small talk. Nathan had managed to forgo injury during the ensuing rodent-fest – a rarity these days – and Duke and Dwight volunteered for "cleanup" duty rather quickly

Audrey has a sneaking suspicion that both had ulterior motives – Duke has never been one to volunteer for extra work. The hostile glance that Nathan sent his way on their departure was anything but subtle.

As he drives her back to the Gull, they sit in a charged silence. Nathan has a death grip on the steering wheel. Audrey wonders briefly how he has managed not to injure himself far more frequently, wonders if he walks around daily with sprains, strains, or broken bones without knowing.

She wonders if his steering wheel is ever going to recover.

She glances in Nathan's direction, and is rewarded with a clenched jaw. The circles under his eyes are more prominent in this lighting – what little there is – and she sees a thin dark line tracing across the right side of his shirt.

The impromptu bandage job from this morning has bled through, another reminder of the countless injuries he's been amassing lately. No one's body is made to hold up against the punishment that he has been putting his through. He's very literally running himself into the ground. It sends a chill through her - he doesn't care, as Duke so eloquently stated.

It needs to end. She prepares herself as he pulls to a stop in front of the Gull.

"Night, Parker." Nathan continues to stare straight ahead, his expression tense and tired.

Audrey half turns to face him and keeps her tone light.

"So, you're telling me you're going home then, Nathan, or were you planning on spending the night in your truck all stalker-like?"

The surprise that crosses his face is priceless.

"Come on Nathan, there are only a handful of Bronco's this age that still run. You stand out like…a really old blue truck in a sea of …other really old trucks." She shoots him a grin. Her intentionally bad analogy has the desired effect; Nathan cracks a slow smile.

She's missed his smile.

Satisfied, she swings open the door.

"You coming?" Audrey tosses the familiar question over her shoulder. Not waiting for a response, she quickly makes her way to the rear of the Bronco, pops the camper shell window open, and deftly unstraps Nathan's emergency bag from behind the wheel well. For a minute, she reflects on the humor of Nathan shirking the Boy Scouts - it would have been a match made in Heaven.

"Parker?" Nathan utters wearily.

His first attempt is answered with muffled footsteps.

"Parker!" The second is louder and decidedly more demanding, but is met similarly.

Nathan's brow furrows. When he hears the camper shell open and subsequently close, he lets out a frustrated sigh and mutters a curse as he climbs out after her.

Nathan rounds the truck to follow her and comes to an abrupt stop as he sees her climbing the stairs with his bag in tow.

He's suddenly filled with what can only be described as dread and a nearly equal amount of resignation – emotions he would have never imaged associating with the prospect of being inside Audrey's apartment. The Gull puts him on edge; it has since her abduction, but he knows Audrey, realizes that she's probably been planning this all along.

It's going to be a _very_ long night.

Nathan climbs the stairs after her to find Audrey holding the door open with one hand, her other outstretched and dangling his bag from the strap – clearly inside the apartment.

For a brief moment, Nathan wonders what the world is coming to when he's _hoping_ that Duke makes a nearly unheard of after-hours appearance at the Gull. Judging from Duke's earlier abandonment, Nathan's betting against it.

He drops his head, shoving one hand in a pocket, and enters, grabbing the proffered bag. He turns in time to see the newly-installed second deadbolt slide into place. It's an unwanted reminder of his last visit. He can't feel the tension in his body, but knows it's there.

Nathan quickly surveys the room. It looks tranquil, homey, and aside from the extra lock, he sees no evidence that anything other than everyday life has taken place here. He briefly closes his eyes in an attempt to stem the sudden flood of nightmarish images in head – the ones that have kept him vigilantly patrolling just outside. He may not sleep much when he's parked outside, but he _doesn't_ sleep on the nights that he manages to stay away.

"Parker…" he starts again.

Audrey's already stepped past him to the kitchen and she begins digging around under the sink without acknowledging his words.

Nathan wonders if she's intentionally trying to agitate him, and he heads toward her. Audrey finds what she's looking for as he reaches mid-room, and her eyes are down as she turns to meet him.

She's still digging through the blue satchel when she plows into his chest.

Nathan immediately drops his bag. His hands come up automatically to grab her by the arms, steadying her.

Audrey meets his eyes and doesn't miss a beat.

"You're staying here tonight." There's a finality that's nearly laughable in its presumptiveness.

He's not laughing.

"Parker…" Nathan realizes that he must be exhausted; he's beginning to sound like a broken record.

His eyes are heavy on her and right now Audrey would do anything to take some of the weight from them.

He drops her arms and turns to pick up his gear, pulling the strap over one shoulder.

"No, Nathan, listen," Audrey's adamant now, and sounds more than a little pissed off. She steps in front of him, taking two fistfuls of his shirt, and this time _she's_ holding _him_ in place. "You're planning on spending the night in your truck, a few hundred feet away. You sleep here and I'll be within arm's reach. You'll know the second anything," she amends her words when his face hardens, "_if_ anything happens."

She quirks a smile as she continues. "Besides, it's not good for the Chief of Police to be caught skulking around in the bushes."

"Parker." Again, but it's resigned this time.

"Wuornos," Audrey's words are calmer and laced with mild sarcasm. He's been using her last name as a shield, and it's long past time that she calls him on it.

"Audrey."

Nathan says it slowly, solidly.

She's missed that too.

"Nathan."

There's a pause while she can see him thinking through the situation. She knows that _he_ knows that her rationale has merit. She can see acceptance registering in his eyes.

Audrey lets go of his shirt and sets the satchel down on the table.

"Now," she says it easily, as if she's said it a thousand times before, "take off your shirt."

* * *

**A/N: Minor Editing 1/5/12** for spelling/punctuation.


	5. Sad Memory

**Title: Sad Memory**

**Rating: T **to be safe

**Pairings: **Nathan/Audrey, D/N/A FRIENDSHIP ;)

**Spoiler: **Images of mornings and evenings with her play like a slideshow through his mind. And now he's angry. He can't let himself get this close.

**Disclaimer/Author's Note:** Haven and Browning's works - not mine. All mistakes - very much mine. My lovely reviewers rock. Hope you enjoy! Thoughts, critiques, etc.? The title for the entire work, as well as chapter titles are taken from **Sonnets for the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning**

* * *

_How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use?  
A hope, to sing by gladly? or a fine  
__**Sad memory**__, with thy songs to interfuse?_

_-_Elizabeth Barrett Browning, **Sonnet 17**

.O.O.O.O.

"Now," she says it easily, as if she's said it a thousand times before, "take off your shirt."

It takes Nathan a moment to realize that his mouth is still hanging open; what began as a begrudged agreement gets lost somewhere between it and his brain. He's briefly grateful that Audrey has refocused her attention on digging around in the satchel. It gives him enough time to snap his jaw closed. Her smirk, as she turns toward him holding gauze, disinfectant, medical tape, and scissors tells him that he didn't recover in time.

"Easy, tiger." Duke's teasing remark sounds much different falling off Audrey's lips.

They're both suddenly very aware of just _how_ it sounds.

Audrey ducks her head to cover for the faint twinge of blush that she can feel coloring her cheeks. She's been so focused on convincing him to stay, to stop taking mindless risks, that she hasn't processed the next step. But now…

Nathan's spending the night.

She tries not to dwell on the "before."

_The before that included pancakes._

_The before that included a very different scenario for removing his shirt._

_The before where, for a minute, they were a "they"._

He's giving her _that_ look again – the look that cuts into her – and the room suddenly feels smaller. So she does what she does so well when things get personal. She deflects.

"Your bandage."

Now Nathan's look shifts to one of confusion. She can deal with confusion.

"Duke might be a hand with a first aid kit, but for someone who gets injured so frequently, _you_" she motions with full hands to the blood on his shirt, and teases, "not so much, apparently. Let's see it."

He looks down at this point, assessing the damage.

"Shirt. Up." Audrey prompts, setting her supplies down on the dining room table.

She watches as he hesitantly begins to lift up the side of the shirt in question, revealing a haphazard bandage job that is decidedly in need of replacement.

Audrey's first thought is that his skin is smooth. In fact, it's far smoother than she would have expected on someone who should have at least one visible scar on the revealed flesh. She still has an almost visceral reaction when she remembers the chunk of wood protruding from his abdomen. But _that, _at least, never happened. Audrey reaches a loosely curled hand out to the area just right of his bandage, touches it with splayed finger, and strokes her thumb across the unblemished skin there.

She freezes a split second after she hears his sharp inhalation.

Nathan is standing completely still – the phrase "as still as stone" comes to mind, just long enough to register – but she can feel the muscles of his torso flutter under her touch.

If the air was charged earlier tonight in the office, she's not sure how to describe it now.

Audrey can't look up; she can't draw her eyes away from where her hand is spread against his stomach, and strangely it isn't due to some mesmerizing quality that it possesses. She can't look up because if she does, she knows what she'll see. He'll be staring at her again. Staring _into_ her – pain, stubbornness, loneliness, misplaced heroism and selflessness – _damn him _for being so incredibly selfless sometimes.

And if she sees that, she's afraid she'll forget about the last two months all together, and pick up where they left off – where she wanted them to leave off – that night.

_Before._

She's beginning to hate that word.

And the truth is that if she does let herself forget – if she does let herself give in to this unexplainable need that's been swirling inside her – Audrey's afraid of how he'll react. And she doesn't want to test that, when she doesn't know if she can handle him pulling away.

_Focus._

Her hand is still resting against him.

Nathan still hasn't moved.

She's not sure if either of them has been breathing.

_Focus._

Audrey moves her hand slowly to the bandage, but she keeps the contact. She's not going to take the time to question her motives; whether she's doing it to punish him in some way, or if she's just being practical. She doesn't really care at the moment. The truth is that she needs this. She's not sure when she started getting used to touching him – when she started _needing_ that connection – but she's not above being selfish. Not right now. And he's not pulling away.

As she begins removing the corner of the bandage, Nathan seems to snap out of a trance.

"It's fine." He says it low and barely audibly.

Audrey's about to respond when she slides the gauze back enough to reveal the actual injury. This time she freezes for a completely different reason. The wound is still visible, wrapping around to midback, but instead of the bloody, bruised presentation that Audrey was expecting…

"Nathan." She breathes it out quietly.

"Told you it was fine," Nathan's half-smiling chastisement comes. He softens it, "I'm a quick healer."

As if "quick healer" even begins to cover it. All that's left is the faint pink path of newly formed skin. But even as Audrey's mentally scoffing at his easy dismissal, she's running through memories.

_Nathan in a sling with a gunshot wound to the shoulder..._

_Nathan, slicing his hand to prove a point to a grieving son…_

She remembers seeing it bandaged the next day, but can't recall if it was still wrapped the day after. And she knows that he'd cut it deeper than one day's healing should have repaired.

_Nathan, recovering without apparent concussion from a heavy blow to the head from the Chief, minutes after being knocked unconscious…_

_Nathan, holding a lighter to his swiftly blistering forearm..._

She wonders how frequently he wore slings or wrapped his injuries just for show. She roughly calculates how old the cut on his side is – 12 hours?

_Nathan dying in her arms…_

He can die, she's seen that.

Can't he?

She's spent most of her time trying _not_ to think about what would have happened if that day – or days – hadn't rebooted.

Regardless, she's not about to let him test particular theory.

While she's adding up details in her mind, she's pulling the rest of the lower half of his shirt up, baring his entire abdomen. There should be scrapes, bruises in various stages of black and yellow littering his stomach; testaments to his stretch of foolhardy behavior. There's nothing.

It's perfect.

Suddenly, Audrey realizes that she's been staring a little too long at her partner's half-naked torso, and somewhere along the line, her attention has shifted from assessing his injuries to something else entirely. She can feel his breath slow and soft against the top of her hair, and if she just tilts her head up, she thinks….

She really wants to look up.

_Focus_.

It won't scar.

Audrey takes a small step back and shoots Nathan an accusatory glance, and the remaining tension in the room strangely dissipates.

Nathan's watching her intent survey curiously.

She pokes him hard in the stomach.

"Ow!" He says it even as the corner of his mouth twitches up.

"This?" she loops an accusatory pointer in a zigzag pattern up and down in front of his body, head cocked, and eyebrow arched. "Kinda something you need to share with me."

Nathan shifts onto his heels, crosses his arms and affects a comically serious expression.

"Dually noted, Officer Parker." The levity in his voice is refreshing.

She feels loose, suddenly, like she's stretching for the first time in a long time.

It feels good.

"Yeah, well," Audrey quirks a smile at him and steps to the table under the guise of returning the supplies to her bag, "make sure you don't let it happen again."

They're not back to "normal" yet, but this? She'll take this.

Audrey returns the kit to its former residence, putting some distance between them, and heads to her bed. She grabs the first pillow that her hand comes in contact with and tosses it in Nathan's direction. He catches it smoothly and eyes her quizzically.

"You get the couch, Wuornos."

.O.O.O.O.

Nathan hears Audrey stir as he finishes the first batch of pancakes. He's surprised that she's managed to sleep this long. He has a sneaking suspicion that she's had more than her share of restless nights lately. It's a rare day when either takes the morning off; with the events of the last 24 hours, his schedule-call last night was more than warranted.

"Morning sleepy…." He drops off as he turns around and catches sight of Audrey. He's glad he has a firm hold on the handle of his coffee mug.

Her hair is mussed up and she brushes it out of her eyes with one hand, a sleepy smile on her face. He's silently kicking himself for agreeing to stay. She props herself up on one elbow, and he's suddenly wondering when she slipped into a cami. For the second time in 12 hours, Nathan has to remind himself to close his still-open mouth.

He's struck with a strange feeling of déjà vu.

"_How about I make pancakes…"_

"He cooks too." Audrey's slightly amused comment clears his head. He sees her other hand move from beneath the pillow as she moves into a sitting position; he catches sight of the grip of a handgun as she withdraws it. His suspicion about her sleeping habits is confirmed. She swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Now he's thinking about how _not_ to think about the way that the yoga pants fit her like a second skin.

"How long have you been up?" Audrey's tone is still light, "I thought you said we didn't need to go in until this afternoon?" She's up and stepping past the table, nearly crossing the small space between the bed and the kitchen , when it hits her just how intimate this setting is and just how her words sound. Like he has nothing better to do than spend the morning with her.

Like he's _with_ her.

A quick glance at Nathan reveals that the same realization is hitting him. She sees him tensing up, unconsciously pulling away.

They're not ready for this.

_Not yet._

"So, did you get _any_ sleep?" She strides past him, grabbing the coffee from him and taking a sip. She doesn't try to touch him, but she's not shying away from it either. Audrey gives him a brief nod and hands it back as she moves to grab a second mug from the counter, pouring herself a glass.

_He's missed that_.

"A bit."

It feels like more sleep than he's gotten in weeks. A quick check of the locks on both the deck entrance and the entrance to The Gull, and he literally may have fallen asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He reminds himself to return the sofa to its position by the fireplace. Its current placement in front of the double doors is somewhat awkward.

She's still standing there, looking achingly amazing, and he tells himself that "not just my partner anymore either" and a kiss don't exactly qualify as statements of desire or love.

He realizes that his gaze is alternating slowly between her eyes, her lips, and the nearly bare curve of her neck and shoulder – he tries not to think about touching that skin – and quickly breaks off his train of thought. He's left both mentally chastising himself for dropping his guard so thoroughly and feeling thankful that she doesn't seem to notice.

"Coffee _and_ pancakes, huh? You know, a girl could get used to this, Wuornos."

Images of mornings and evenings with her play like a slideshow through his mind. And now he's angry. He can't let himself get this close.

_Friend._

_Not lover._

He'd silently promised that much last night as he'd fallen asleep to the sounds of her breathing. Because if there's one thing that he's been made for, it's protecting her. It almost makes his Trouble worthwhile. He can protect her, were, just maybe, no one else can.

Audrey is worth that.

His "wants" pale in comparison. He pivots away and removes the last of the pancakes, turning off the griddle.

Audrey's not quite sure what just happened. One minute, he's looking at her like he can't look away, and the next his expression is the epitome of casual friendliness. Audrey is left staring at his back.

"Can't have you hungry, Parker. I've seen you run on just caffeine, it's not pretty."

Ok.

She can do casual.

For now.

Audrey takes her time getting ready as Nathan finishes breakfast.

.O.O.O.O.

It turns out that a heightened sense of taste doesn't hurt when cooking. Audrey's oddly grateful that she didn't serve him her decidedly less tasty version of pancakes that night. She's also wondering where he managed to find ingredients for breakfast. Saying that her supplies have been under stocked lately is an understatement. Audrey asks him as much.

"Duke."

So Duke knows about...whatever _this_ is. Audrey resists the urge to shake her head. She wonders what these two _don't_ share now.

It could be an interesting day.

She's trying to figure out how to convince him to spend the next few nights on her couch. She's also trying to tell herself it's for his benefit, but a nagging voice in the back of her head tells her that she could do with a few more good nights of sleep.

Nathan stands, clears his plate, and cleans the meager breakfast mess, while she mulls over possibilities under the pretense of slowly finishing her meal.

His next statement nearly leaves her choking on her food.

"Might want to grab some extra clothes. Tonight we're at my place."

When he sees her wide eyed expression he adds with a half-smile, "Spare room hasn't been used in a while, but at least we both have beds. Don't think I could take another night on that thing you call a couch."

Nathan's up and headed for the door before she can respond.

As she rinses her plate and follows him, she swallows a quip about how he could easily sleep on a rock without repercussions.

An interesting day indeed.

.O.O.O.O.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Really, I'm moving on to the broader story now, just had to iron out a few more things.**Minor Editing: 1/5/12 - Also**, apparently I have a serious Nathan/pancakes thing, as I had forgotten this entirely, but managed to echo it months later (sort of) in another fic...I'm not even sorry ;)


	6. Hid In Me Part 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **In writing the next chapter, I've gone back over this and included a few details that will hopefully help set the scene a little better for things to come. I've also corrected several typo's (seriously, I'm going to fire my ghost writer ;)), so that may help a few things as well. Let me know - like it? hate it? where can I improve :)? _Mea culpa_ for the poor job I did on my edit the first time!

**Fandom: Haven**

**I own: **Nothing

**Pairing: **N/A

**Title:** Hid In Me (Part 1)

Again, many thanks for the kind comments! Sorry for the long wait!

Enjoy!

Title from **Sonnets from the Portuguese **by Elizabeth Barrett Browning – V

_Behold and see  
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me_

.O.O.O.O.

"All I'm saying is that a hard working business man, such as myself," Duke tips his chin for maximum effect, keeping a friendly, if somewhat comic smile, "might get the idea that he's being harassed."

"Mr. Crocker, I can assure you that the Haven Police Department shows no favoritism in enforcing parking laws." Stan's expression is perplexed and beginning to show signs of fatigue, no doubt due to the fact that he's been cornered at the Haven PD "coffee bar" for going on twenty minutes.

Not that anything coming out of that machine should be called coffee. Duke's surprised that someone with Nathan's taste buds manages to gag that swill down on a daily basis.

Really, it's no surprise that Nathan's face is set in a perpetual frown.

"He's not trying to convince you he works for a living, is he Stan?" Nathan's smirk is evident in his voice, even before he steps around Duke. If Duke was surprised to find both members of the dynamic duo playing tardy, he's nearly speechless at the sound of anything approaching a smile playing in Nathan's voice.

_Nearly_ speechless.

"Well, Nathan, not all of us are lucky enough to have the lovely Audrey Parker waiting for us at work. Now, if you're interested in sharing, I might make another attempt at business man of the year." Duke runs with it, more than happy to exchange anything close to playful banter. He turns slightly, half-facing Nathan. Damn if the man doesn't actually seem relaxed; the shadows under his eyes are nearly gone.

Duke definitely hadn't been expecting his quip to stop Nathan's usual sardonic response in its tracks – though he has to admire Nathan for managing a quick recovery under the guise of pouring a cup of coffee.

_Interesting._

"And just where might our lovely lady cop be?" Duke allows himself a moment to eye Nathan questioningly, affecting a teasingly suggestive smirk. Duke doesn't think he'll ever get tired of getting a rise out of Nathan. But he's not pushing too hard; not at the moment.

The fact that Nathan is reacting at all is a good sign.

Never underestimate the determination of a feisty blond.

_Speaking of Audrey_…

"Aren't you up a little early, Duke?" The blond in question is looking more at ease, as well. And no, he is not missing the pointed way that she stops decidedly inside of Nathan's personal bubble. He's not missing the fact that Nathan seems to have decided that her presence isn't toxic.

_Good girl._

"It isn't even, what? 10am?" Audrey quips, tipping her head at Duke, as she grabs Nathan's coffee. Duke notes Nathan's non-reaction to her move as a statement to its regularity. He lets out a muffled chuckle as she returns it, and the trio fall into step toward the Chief's office.

Audrey closes it behind them.

Nathan's door still lacks an official monogram, despite the fact that he moved into it shortly after his reinstatement as Interim Chief. Duke knows Nathan still isn't settled in the position, and if there's one feeling that Duke's familiar with, it's the uncertainty of waiting for the bottom to fall out.

Some days he thinks the bottom might have fallen out of Haven a long time ago.

"I'm thinking that we need to have a sit down with the Brother's Teague. There's something - correction, _some things_ that they need to make infinitely clearer to me. "

"Oh there are, are there?" The expression he's getting off Nathan is far too close to bemused indulgence. He feels almost as strongly about bemused indulgence as he does about being played like a pawn.

"Look, we all know that there's something wrong with this picture. I mean," Duke pauses a second, meeting Nathan's gaze – he knows Nathan must have given this some thought – maybe for longer than he has, "Dave _knew_. Hell, he practically steered me to that box! And Vince, oh now _Vince, he_ set Sasquatch on me. So yes, Nathan, there are. _And_ last I checked they have actually made it through the Troubles now. Twice. So I'm not buying the bumbling buffoons act."

Nathan's slow nod speaks volumes; his eyes lock on Duke's.

Audrey's glance between the two, one hand settling on Nathan's wrist, the other on Duke's shoulder, "We'll talk to the Teague's, but when we do, it might help to have a few more answers of our own."

Duke gives a dry smirk. Audrey has a sixth sense for detecting knucklehead behavior.

The phone on Nathan's desk rings, and he steps away to answer.

"So, you two," Duke tips his head at Nathan's back and raises an eyebrow, making only the slightest attempt to lower his voice or mask the innuendo, "get a few things out of the way?"

If he was hoping for a few ruffled feathers, he's sadly disappointed. Audrey gives a bemused smile and shakes her head humoringly.

He's about to try a second time when Nathan returns the phone to its cradle, and unceremoniously heads for the door.

Nathan's hand is on the knob in the two beats it takes them to look around.

"Got a call from Lizzy Anders. Looks like we might have found the cause of Mr. Anders breakdown yesterday."

Audrey's moved out the now open door by the time Nathan finishes.

"And Duke?"Nathan says it over his shoulder, as he follows his partner, "May be a good idea to put a call in to Dwight."

"Hey!" Duke's belated verbalization does exactly what he expected it would. Nothing.

He's not sure when he started becoming the go-to guy for the Chief of Police. He mutters a silent "Why me?" to the universe, but his phone is to his ear before he gets to his truck.

.O.O.O.O.

Audrey checks to her left for the second time in as many minutes. Nathan's arm is shaking, knuckles white around his gun grip. She needs to speed this up.

"Chloe, you're projecting your emotions. I know that you're feeling sad right now, I…know… how hard it is to be without your parents." Audrey's stepping closer to Chloe, slowly. She can't risk upsetting the girl any further.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Nathan slowly begin to tap the gun muzzle against his temple, rocking back and forth on his heels slowly; his jaw muscles are jumping.

_How far behind them are Duke and Dwight?_

She doesn't have time to calculate that right now.

"Nathan, hold on, listen to me. I know you can hear me. I need you to stay with me. Please." If she had more energy, she would have put it into keeping her voice calm – it's not doing anything to add to the chaos – but right now it's more a bundle of raw nerves.

"Trying." The word barely makes it past his clenched teeth before he's back to tapping.

"He knows what it's like. He knows what it's like to be alone." Chloe's quiet words are barely more than a mumble. The words strike her as odd, but it's the first response she's gotten in a while, so Audrey takes it as a good sign.

"Chloe, listen to me." Audrey speaks deliberately slowly, softly. Audrey bends down, and then kneels, coming to eye level with the girl. The pain is roughly etched across her face – so much pain for such a little girl. And Audrey concentrates on that, because she'll lose Nathan to a bullet unless she can pull Chloe out of this vicious cycle.

She's not losing Nathan.

"Chloe, I know you're feeling alone, and I know you're scared, and sad, and hurting right now. But I know that you're parents loved you very much, and I know that they would want you to have a life worth living. They would want you to be happy."

Audrey's voice grows softer as she speaks, and she sees Chloe's eyes start to focus.

_Progress._

"And I know your brother loves you very much, and right now, he's waiting downstairs and so are your grandparents. I know you love them. And I know you can get through this together." Audrey says this and a few other things. She's not entirely sure what she's saying at this point, only that she's concentrating on Chloe, and that so far her gut hasn't been wrong.

She sees the girl begin to uncurl from her position. Her eyes begin to brighten; it's not much, but it's a start. So she keeps talking, watching the girl as she goes.

"Chloe, you need to fight this with me. You can beat it, you're strong, and you have people here who will help you, who love you."

Chloe finally meets her eyes.

It's almost as if a tangible switch flips.

"Hi." Brown hair, green eyes, and a million freckles are made infinitely more adorable by a half smile. Chloe's voice is timid, but there's something hopeful about it. "I'm sorry, I was just looking at this picture, and I just…"

Chloe breaks off for a minute - hand still clutching the family photo - and takes a few deep breaths. Audrey gives her hand a squeeze, willing herself to keep her attention on Chloe, even as she hears Nathan begin to shift behind her. She hears the sound of his handgun being re-holstered, and still she keeps her attention on Chloe – not an easy task.

"It was almost like I couldn't think about anything except how much I missed them." Suddenly a look of panic sets in.

"My Grandpa!" It come out as a gasp, and then Chloe's eyes shoot to Nathan. Her voice is far weightier than any twelve-year-olds should be, "I'm _so sorry._"

Nathan's beside her in an instant; Audrey takes a deep breath of her own.

"It wasn't your fault." It's all he says, but somehow between his tone and his earnest expression, Chloe seems to believe him. She gives a small nod.

Nathan's presence next to her, is both comforting and aggitating for Audrey. She's suddenly filled with a strong desire to leave the room.

Audrey studies Chloe quickly, but thoroughly. It's going to take the girl some time to process this, but Nathan seems to tune into Chloe instantly.

Audrey has one more conversation that needs to be taken care of, and right now, that conversation is a far more pleasant prospect than dealing with the spiraling emotions rocketing through her system. She conveniently puts her feelings aside in favor of the task at hand.

Audrey leaves Chloe with Nathan. The two are chatting easily – oddly out of place after the intense scene just moments before. Audrey heads down the stairs, ignoring the nervous energy in her belly, ignoring the nausea she feels when she thinks about Nathan pressing that gun to his temple. Ignoring everything but what needs to be done now.

_Now_ she needs to have a conversation with Chloe's Grandmother.

.O.O.O.O.

**Author's Note:** Reviews = awesome ;)


	7. Hid In Me Part 2

**Title: Hid In Me, Part 2 (FINALLY!)**

**Rating: M**

**Pairings: **Nathan/Audrey, D/N/A FRIENDSHIP ;)

**Spoiler: **It hits her, hard. _She felt that_. The Troubles don't affect her, but that? _That_ hit her like a ten pound hammer.

**Disclaimer/Author's Note:** Haven and Browning's works - not mine. All mistakes - very much mine. The title for the entire work, as well as chapter titles are taken from **Sonnets for the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning**

**Authors Note: **The majority of this chapter was planned out before S3 started (including the "memory"/"flashback"), except for the small details of the Guard. We're in AU Country people. I'm** hoping I'm not slaughtering the um….well, you'll see, because we're beginning to get out of my comfort zone. Let me know? Reviews are love! ;)**

* * *

_Behold and see  
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,  
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn  
Through the ashen greyness._

_-_Elizabeth Barrett Browning, **Sonnet 5**

.O.O.O.O.

Audrey is still talking with Ida when Chloe comes bounding down the stairs, followed closely by Nathan. The girl virtually leaps into her grandmother's arms. Hurried words of apology and endearment are exchanged, and Audrey turns to Nathan. He's silent and calm as ever; a beginning of a bruise is showing on his temple and her stomach turns sharply.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Chloe's Grandmother voices other murmurs and reassurances, but this line sticks in Audrey's mind as she says her goodbyes and turns to find Nathan. He's outside and in a somber discussion with Dwight and Duke.

The newly formed bruise is still little more than a shadow under his hairline.

The trio seem to come to a conclusion, and Dwight leaves the group. A few seconds later, Nathan joins him. She can hear Duke yell after him and Nathan say something in return, as she steps to the front door.

Duke's looking entirely too happy with himself.

.O.O.O.O.

"What do we have?" Nathan scrubs his face absently as he approaches the two men. He can't feel the tension leaving his muscles. Now it's the little things that clue him into his bodies responses: blurry vision is just as irritating as ever.

"You good, Nathan?" Dwight questions and waits for his nod to continue. "I put the word out. Got a hit from one of my old Guard buddies." Dwight's voice is low, despite the trio's apparent isolation, "Thought we'd head out after we wrap up here."

The Cleaner's cell buzzes on his hip, and he nods at the other two as he steps away to answer it.

"Nathan, if you have to finish up here…" Duke glances pointed to the houses interior and Audrey, standing near Chloe and her grandmother. He immediately feels Nathan stiffen, and follow his gaze. Apparently the two hadn't ironed out as many details as he'd thought.

"No, I'm with Dwight. Might need an officer there to take statements. I need you to take Audrey…" Nathan pauses for a moment – long enough to catch Duke's attention. He's not entirely sure, but if he didn't know better, he'd say Wuornos is…shy.

Interesting.

"Take her to my place. She has her…," he watches as Nathan steals himself and looks him in the eye. He wasn't expecting that, but he'll roll with it. Embarrassed Nathan is more fun than he remembered.

Nathan starts again, pointedly ignoring Dukes suggestive expression. "Her stuff's in the car. Stay with her until I get back."

Nathan drops his keys into Duke's outstretched hand with only a slight hesitation, dips his head slightly and turns without another word, heading to join Dwight in the van.

Duke almost refrains, but really, Nathan's making this too easy.

"You want me to set the mood any, Chief? Music? Flowers? "

Nathan stiffens slightly but keeps going.

"I make a mean _Chanterelle and Parmesan Oyster_!" He doesn't yell it, per say, just _maybe_ says it slightly louder than necessary.

"DUKE!" Nathan doesn't even bother turning as he barks it out.

Point Crocker.

He's still smirking when Audrey exits the house and joins him.

"Dwight and Nathan had a lead," he says by way of explanation. On _what_ goes unstated – the kidnapping. She'd almost feel slighted, but she's tired, Nathan's stubborn, and more than likely her presence wouldn't be beneficial.

"So you're stuck on babysitting duty?" She quips.

"I prefer to think of myself as a friendly drinking buddy." He responds, hooking an arm around her shoulder. "And I happen to know that our friend has great taste in beer."

.O.O.O.O.

"But it looks like the Old Man failed to mention a few things." Duke's sprawled across one end of Nathan's sofa, an open beer bottle in hand, and Audrey has a fair idea that he's assumed this position on more than one occasion. He swings around, feet on the floor, elbows on his knees – staring at a fixed point somewhere above the coffee table.

"Though, in fairness, it's not the easiest topic to bring up." Duke drops his voice, affecting a humorously serious expression, ""Hey son, you know how Johnnie's going to grow up to be a fireman, just like his daddy? Well, lucky for you, _you_ get to follow Pops into the scintillating world of serial killing. But don't worry, it gives you superhero strength and…."

Duke takes a long swig from his bottle, before continuing through gritted teeth, "_glowy _eyes! Oh, and don't forget to beware of mysterious strangers with cryptic tattoo's. But _don't worry_ kid, you're gonna be a _star._"

They sit in silence for a moment, because Audrey knows he needs this – to get it out. Honestly, she's surprised with how well he's been handling it – Duke, the man who makes his own way in life is now bound to a town and a destiny that goes back generations. It's taken four hours, but they've finally worked back to this.

"Oh, and, son? While you're at it, do the Old Man a solid and knock off two of the only friend's you have left." Another drink, and he wipes his mouth against the back of one hand.

He's not drunk - far from it, but there's something in his affectation that has just a hint of madness.

"But I make my own fate." He locks eyes with her now, determination set heavy across his face, "And I say that we fight this damn thing."

"I'll drink to that." She feels lighter somehow, and laughs as the bottles clink together, "To fighting fate."

"To making _our own_ fate." Duke correction is slight, and he's smiling, but it's there and she holds his gaze as she nods.

They will.

The distant sound of a muffler breaks through the silence is a testament to just how far out of the way Nathan's house is; it's one of the first sounds that they've heard.

The glint is back in Duke's eye immediately, most – but not all – of the heaviness, gone.

"So, uh, you and Nate….."

"Duke, don't you know ladies never kiss and tell?" Audrey's mild insinuation catches him for a moment, and his half-grin is teasing again. She sees a glimpse of it – that playfulness that she's been missing in him lately. Duke stands, sets down his bottle on the coffee table, and gathers his sweater as Dwight's van pulls up the drive. Audrey moves to join him, clearing both beverages to the kitchen sink as she hears the sound of footsteps –Nathan's, she assumes – climbing the porch.

"Well, good luck with that," Duke's grin is now Cheshire-cat wide, "I've seen glaciers move faster than Wuornos."

He turns and opens the door before she can get in a retort.

"Speaking of…."

Nathan comes up short at Duke's greeting, confusion on his face.

Duke turns back towards Audrey, eyebrows cocked. The two make a pair, he thinks, both standing with mouths slightly agape.

He shouldn't get satisfaction from this, but, what the hell…he does anyway.

"Hey Sasquatch!" And he may not need to jostle Nathan's shoulder as he exits, but again, it's been a good day. "Helpa brother out, my man!"

.O.O.O.O.O.

Dinner is quiet and Audrey's pleasantly surprised to learn that Nathan's cooking skills extend beyond breakfast foods. Their conversation is easier than it's been in months. They stick to safe topics – traffic violations, cats up trees, whether or not Laverne has _ever_ taken a sick day – and occasionally lapse into silence.

She can tell that Nathan's making an effort to keep it light, but there's still a dusky smudge on his temple. The tension is still there, too.

They clean up after dinner in tandem and Nathan shoots her a silent question, waiting for her nod, before grabbing two glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels out.

They move to the living room and she balances on the edge of the sofa and accepts the glass from him., fully aware of the 12 inches that currently separate them.

It's too far and too close all at once.

The whiskey burns warm and fast down her throat, and she makes a decision.

"So," she's still staring at the empty glass in her hands, twisting it slightly and watching the last drops of alcohol skim around the bottom, "Duke said you…you might have found something."

She has to start somewhere.

Nathan's silent for a long moment.

"Nathan," she says it softly and as she says it, she slides closer, reaches across and closes her left hand around his. Their knees aren't quite touching and her body is sitting at an angle, but it's _something._

He stills, but doesn't pull away; his eyes remain fixed on them.

"Didn't get much. There's a group of Troubled people in Haven. They call themselves the Guard." He's talking slowly, evenly – and she thinks that it's more for her benefit than his, "Some of them, see you as a threat. Still don't have much to go on. The men we caught, they haven't been talking."

He pauses, drops his eyes and she realizes his eyes are still on her hand – _their hands_ – and she turns slightly, lacing their fingers together, and setting down her glass before sliding her right hand along his palm – effectively capturing his between hers.

He looks up now, turning to face her, "We'll get them Audrey. I won't let them…"

"You'll be safe." Desperation and resolve. Like he will make it happen by sheer force of will.

He raises his free hand and rubs a hand through his hair; it's habit more than anything, but it draws her attention to the bruise there.

_She can't lose him._

She hasn't been able to shake it all afternoon. She reaches a hand up without thinking, gently pressing against the mark.

Nathan jerks slightly.

She stands, intending on stringing together some kind of an apology, but he stands nearly as quickly when he sees her move, and they end up crashing together.

Audrey finds herself laughing, as an arm wraps around her. Somehow between that and his second hand bracing against the wall, they manage to remain upright.

He's smiling too, when she looks up; his expression sobers suddenly.

_He's so close._

_She almost lost him._

_Again._

Her hands are against his chest, one belatedly wrapped in fabric in her own attempt at self-preservation.

She can hear his heart hammering against her palms, and his eyes say that he's about one second from running.

She feels him shift.

She kisses him.

It's not a hard kiss, not at first. The hand that's flat on his shirt front moves up, pressing along the angle of his jaw and holding, long enough for him to make a choice.

It takes him just milliseconds to respond this time.

And then the kiss changes.

It's different than the first time, and the same.

The draw is still there, and that sweet ache inside of her. But this time _he's kissing her back._

His lips move on hers slowly at first, like they're memorizing and remembering all at once. And then Nathan's hand comes off the wall and buries itself in her hair – long fingers cupping the back of her head. And he suddenly seems to _come alive._

This?

_This is…_

All that there _is_ is the heat of his mouth and the press of his body and the need pooling inside her, and the way he moans when she bites gently at his lip.

And suddenly this is nothing like the light kiss that she intended and all she can think about is the sharp pain that stabbed through her when his gun was against his head, the corny jokes he cracks, and the fact that he's _Nathan_.

Somehow they've moved, and she's against the wall, and while his hands are still in her hair and pressing against the small of her back, hers have somehow made their way to the buttons on his shirt front.

She's three buttons down when her fingers tangle in the chain around his neck and the ring is still resting on his sternum when her fingers find it.

And then they're _assaulted_ – because there's really no other word for it.

Almost immediately, Nathan stumbles back from her touch as far as her fingers, now curled around the warm metal, will allow. One hand is on his temple, the other gripping his chest.

And Audrey knows why.

Déjà vu doesn't even begin to do it justice.

The images are clearer than memories. They're more reminiscent of a video – one that's fully embellished with a hefty dose of sensation and emotion.

_And completely devoid of clothing._

She can see them without seeing them, and the "them" that she sees are tangled in sheets and each other.

And the feelings….

Sorrow, pain, love, longing, joy, all rolled together and so intense that they're pressing on her chest like a weight.

Vaguely, she sees Nathan taking another staggering step back and her fingers slip free.

Just like that, she can breathe again, and apparently, so can he, because he takes a deep gulp of air almost immediately.

But he's not looking at her – he's looking everywhere but her.

And she still knows why.

The vivid imaging may be gone, but that ache is still very present.

_Looking_ at him is enough to make her blush, but she doesn't think it would show. Her whole body is still hot enough to boil.

"What. Was. That." Because she has to say something, has to distract her mind from the still fresh imprint of…

_Him._

_Them._

_Together._

_Married._

And apparently very much enjoying it.

Nathan looks at her finally, but his eyes are wide and wild. It makes sense, she thinks, that he might have had a more intense reaction, she's sure the sensations alone probably nearly incapacitated him.

Then it hits her.

_She felt that_.

The Troubles don't affect her, but that? _That_ hit her like a ten pound hammer.

.O.O.O.O.

* * *

A/N: Ahhhhh, more to come!


	8. Hid In Me Part 3

**Title: Hid In Me, Part 3 **

**Rating: M **

**Pairings: **Nathan/Audrey, D/N/A FRIENDSHIP ;)

**Spoiler: **_She kisses him._ And everything stops.

**Disclaimer/Author's Note:** Haven and Browning's works - not mine. All mistakes - very much mine. The title for the entire work, as well as chapter titles are taken from **Sonnets for the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning**

**Authors Note: **The majority of this chapter was planned out before S3 started (including the "memory"/"flashback"). We're in AU Country people. **Reviews are love! ;) Seriously, even constructive Beta credit to enigma731!  
**

* * *

_Behold and see  
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,  
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn  
Through the ashen greyness._

_-_Elizabeth Barrett Browning, **Sonnet 5**

_She kisses him._

And everything stops.

One minute he's holding her against him, half-suspending her above the ground and thinking that she doesn't laugh as much as she _did_. He wants her to laugh again; she's beautiful when she laughs. She's beautiful.

Somewhere in this stream of thought, she _kisses_ him.

It's like the first kiss, in that she catches him off guard. Her lips are feather-soft against his, and it's so light that it's hardly there, tentative. And just as suddenly, he feels her hand against his face. He can feel the softness of her palm, still slightly cool from the beer, the slow press of her fingers, and augmenting these sensations is the drag of his stubbled skin _against_ her hand and every millimeter where his mouth meets hers.

He has to wrench his thoughts away from the sensation. This is Audrey. She's kissing him. Every barrier that he's been building up and every argument that he's carefully constructed to keep them apart, to keep her _safe_, in the end, fall in the face of a single kiss.

He feels weak and heady all at once.

He's tried not to let himself think about this, because if it was just her touch, he could wait.

It's Audrey.

So he kisses her. Her hair is smooth, soft, and there are small tangles in it where the wind wound it around itself earlier in the day. And now that he's started kissing her, he's not sure that he'll ever be able to stop. There's some part of him that responds from memory, remembers what it is to kiss, but the rest of him is wrapped up in responding to _her_. Her fingertips are tracing slow patterns through his hair and along the back of his neck. He can feel her smile against his lips and then her teeth catch his lower lip; he reacts because he needs to touch _more_, and his hand finds its way under the edge of shirt and splays across every inch of skin that he can reach.

He pushes aside thoughts of how much time they've wasted and how he's going to make sure that this time she _stays_. And instead he pushes her up against the wall. He has just enough mental faculties to make sure that it's gently, and then he stops thinking all together.

He can't get enough of her. He's still _not_ thinking when he feels her touch flash against his collar bone and trail down in bursts and starts of sensation.

And then his world explodes.

Every part of him comes alive, every part of him _feels_. He's wrapped around her, above her, inside of her and he can't think, can't breathe. Everything is _her_. They're tied together, somehow. He knows without knowing that the warm band he feels on the fourth finger on his left hand finds it mate on hers. He doesn't have the ability to wonder when they undressed, or how they ended up in a heated jumble of limbs, because he's _aching_ with the imminence of loss and fear, rage and love, and the knowledge that no matter how fast he holds her, he can't hold on; he feels himself falling somehow, even as they rest together.

He's _living_ whatever this is, _wherever_ this is. And he thinks that it might be killing him.

Just as suddenly as it hit, it – whatever _it_ was - is gone and he's gasping in air.

_But it's not gone._

She's still permeating every part of him. The pain hasn't faded either. He clamps both hands firmly around the edge of the table, one that he's somehow stumbled back against, to keep himself from reaching out for her. He keeps his gaze down, and concentrates on the rhythm of his breathing, and everything else but Audrey and the loss of having her.

_And not having her._

He feels the absence of her acutely and tries to rationalize it away. It's not her touch that he's missing, but her presence and the feeling is so strong that he feels the panic he's been fighting down climbing back up again; the knowledge that he'll do anything to keep her from being ripped from him again.

"What. Was. That." Her voice seems louder than it should, but against a backdrop of heavy breathing it stands out.

_She felt that._

He's not sure if it's a relief or a curse because now he doesn't know how to look at her. So he looks away, and the weeks of schooling his expression come in handy. He needs something to focus on, something other than her.

_She felt that._

Whatever this is, it isn't a Trouble, and he only knows one place that might have these kind of answers. Nathan raises his eyebrows and cocks his head towards the door. He catches her eye, but holds the glance just as long as necessary; there's heat in her cheeks still, her hair is mussed, and her lips are red and swollen and he looks away before he can let himself dwell on everything _behind_ why she looks like that.

Audrey answers with a nod.

"Better call Duke." Nathan offers as he grabs his keys and pulls the door open to her. They've put this off long enough.

It's time to talk to the Teagues.

.O.O.O.O.

Vince has always been a bit of an eternal romantic . It's one of the few character traits that he's fought to hold on to all these years. Despite everything. The Troubles, they come and go. But in the moment, in the lulls between the storms, he'll still hold on to that.

He can't help but smile when he sees Nathan's Bronco pull up with a blonde in the passenger's seat. It's always nice to see her, whatever face she wears.

The joint slamming of doors is his first warning sign. Nathan's hard glare is his second. That boy is Garland Wuornos' son through and through. Vince may be a romantic, but it would be hard to mistake this visit as a pleasant one.

Vince shoots a quick glance in Dave's direction, and finds his brother already moving to join him at the counter. After so many years, putting on the guise of friendly local newspaper men is nearly effortless. It's saved them more than once. It's kept them alive this long.

"Audrey, Nathan, what brings you to our humble establishment on such a fine afternoon?" Dave's question sounds more anxious than open and accommodating, and his hand fidgets with the earpiece of his glasses. His brother never was one for subtlety, no matter what Dave likes to believe.

"Scooby gang's all here, I see."

Vince shoots a Dave a silencing look as Duke's lanky form strides through the doorway. They both – Duke and Nathan – resemble their fathers enough that it's unnerving; the idea of Crocker helping out Max Hansen's son is something he'll never be used to, and may never trust. Twenty-seven years ago, the cards played out very differently. Generations have done more than slow him down.

Nathan's left hand comes down on the counter, hard. An all too familiar ring dangles from the long silver chain wound around his knuckles.

_Serious indeed._

"Oh, dear." Vince utters the words with more than a hint of real concern.

It was really only a matter of time before Nathan realized that that band was not Garland's wedding ring.

"Explain." Nathan's tone is hard, and draws a flinch from the brothers, where his fist had not. Now Vince's words are filled with the nervous tone that he had just reproved Dave for.

"Well, it's…it's a very nice ring Nathan," Vince smiles nervously, "though I'm really no expert on the subject."

He glances at Dave for assistance, but his brother is simply staring at Nathan. The boy is outwardly calm, but his eyes …his eyes tell a different story.

"I found _this_ with the…my father," His hard tone could be Garland's, too. "When I buried him. Only I don't remember the Chief ever _wearing_ this ring."

Vince doesn't remember ever seeing Nathan truly angry and he plans on keeping it that way. Vince has a very vivid memory of his last encounter with true anger; Max Hansen had almost killed him that day. And though he'd like to believe otherwise, he's no longer anything resembling a young man.

Thankfully, Nathan is no Max.

"Only three other people were on the beach that day." Nathan's slow cadence continues, but he's growling more than talking now, his free arm sweeping momentarily behind him, to where Audrey stood just out of reach. "And _she_ didn't know."

Nathan releases his grip and the ring clunks softly onto the old wooden counter. His hands come to rest at his waist, but his posture is only slightly less threatening.

"Well, Nathan…" Whatever cheeky response Dave begins is cut off by Vince's firm grip on his arm.

Audrey is just as quick, but her distraction technique is markedly different.

She steps slowly to Nathan's side, just short of brushing arms. She sets her own thin band on the counter, inches away from where the first rests.

Vince's relaxes, as Nathan's posture immediately changes from violent to confused. His expression is one that Vince wasn't expecting, and he sees Audrey look up at her partner apologetically.

Nathan hasn't seen "Sarah's" ring yet.

Interesting.

Duke steps forward for the first time, glancing back and forth between the matched set, before reaching out and scooping both of them up with one hand.

"_Don't_!" Nathan and Audrey speak at the same time, both reaching out so quickly that it's almost comedic and drawing back their hands even faster. Vince watches the motions between them, sees the panic in their faces, and he remembers something, something important, that he had forgotten; 54 years is such a long time.

Vince doesn't know if he should feel amazed, relieved or just…..

_Very tired._

"What!" Duke jumps back in response, yelling slightly. His hand automatically closes around the rings in the process, and he belatedly flinches in anticipation of _something_. Seconds later, nothing happens, and he slowly relaxes.

"You…" Nathan gets only one word out, but stops short with his mouth still half open, eyeing the other man warily. Duke shoots him a questioning glance, but gets no response, and returns his attention to the items in his hand. The room is heavy with a pregnant anticipation, and Vince reaches a folded handkerchief up to dab at the few drops of perspiration that have gathered along his forehead.

"I'm going to assume," Duke says the words slowly, with only the smallest hint of accusation, "that the two of you didn't secretly elope last night."

He pauses, leaving the question hanging in the air, as if half expecting a response. Vince watches their reaction with careful consideration. Nathan crosses his arms and sets his jaw, while Audrey looks down – just for a fraction of a second. Not an affirmation, but something. Something is more than Vince could have hoped for.

Audrey is the first to swings her gaze from Duke, back to the Teagues continues to stare at Crocker.

_Best to play this straight._

* * *

**A/N:** Here ends "Hid In Me". More to come soon. Like it? Love it? Hate it with a passion that could burn a thousand suns? Reviews feed the fic monster ;).


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